


When the Day Met the Night

by jimkirkk



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, sun and moon au, tycutio au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:02:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimkirkk/pseuds/jimkirkk





	1. Genesis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quwinto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quwinto/gifts).



It was an odd day when the Sun turned human. He glowed a hot red as if a solar eclipse was starting before growing larger and larger, and then bursting. No one was sure exactly what had happened, only that one sun had burst and another was there, burning a bright yellow-orange. It was smaller than the last had been, maybe further away or maybe just younger. No one quite understood it. There had been no sound. Just the sun, exploding, and then nothing. For a fraction of millisecond, total darkness, then light, once again. Most had missed it, or thought they had, passing it off as a blink or some other kind of thing. Most were oblivious to the fact that it had even happened.  


The Sun, the one that had, as they thought, burst, had actually fallen, turned into a new being out of the destruction of itself. This being adapted to the world it reached, if only somewhat. For the Sun never quite lost its glow.  


A woman in the small town of Verona, Italy, found him glowing orange in a burnt field of grass, smoke rising around him and flames licking at the green blades all over. It was oddly quiet that night, the only light in the sky that of the stars. The Moon, strangely enough, was nowhere to be seen. Not even an outline.  


Somewhere, in the palace gardens, an infant would be found surrounded in cool white light, crying due to a burn on his sternum. That burn would eventually scar, leaving a six-pointed sun laid over his heart.  


But the baby found in the field would go to a much less caring household. The woman who had found him would be chastised for bringing him back when she herself had just had a child.  


That child would soon die, not to her knowledge. The husband would strangle it to death and bury it in the yard, not wishing to have one child, much less two.  


The Sun, well, dear reader, the Sun would grow up burning down everything he loved, setting fire to the things he cherished. Angry, defiant, and built upon hatred, the Sun would be given the name Tybalt. And somewhere down the line, this Tybalt would meet the Moon.  


This Moon would grow up in luxury, in gentleness. That would not stop what others seemed to call it’s ‘dark side’ taking over every so often, sometimes for weeks. It would fight, ruthless and cruel until it had sought it’s fill and would then collapse, bloodsoaked and tired, in its chambers, a white, heavenly light surrounding the devil it was.  


None of this, dear reader, was the main attraction of Verona. The Feud, the fight between the houses based off of some disgrace from centuries previous, was what ruled our fair Verona.  


This Tybalt, this Sun, would be a Capulet, even if he were a false one. The Moon, however, was a relative of the Prince, living in the Palace as he hung around Montagues, making friends with the likes of Romeo and Benvolio.  


The Moon’s name, to our knowledge, was Mercutio. And as the legend went, the meeting of the Day and Night would be inevitable.  


When it happened, it would be explosive. A touch igniting fire across skin and breaths creating small tornadoes between them.  


This, dear reader, is the story of how the Day met the Night.


	2. Moonlight in His Eyes

It was morning on the day of the Sun’s sixteenth birthday and as he watched his face in the mirror, watched the bruises scrunch up and stretch out with the ways he moved his face, he thought it odd how his human skin could be injured so easily. Stars were not subject to such petty appearances. Stars, however, could be damaged in other ways.  


God, how glad he was it had never happened. Now, though, instead of Sol, he went by Tybalt. What an odd name Tybalt was. A popular one of this time, but all the more odd for he was one of the more important Tybalts.  


The fact that even as such a small being as a human he was important was baffling. What reason did humans have for making one more important than another? Attraction, love, money, power, all of those set these humans apart. And what a strange thing that was. Even familial relations set them apart. The fact that he was a Capulet meant he could not hang around the Montagues. He could not mingle with the peasants. If his one true love were to be out there, somewhere, he may never know as he was not allowed near some of the people of Verona.  


He had to remind himself that as a technicality, they weren’t actually peasants. Sure “fair Verona” was ruled over by a Prince, but they were the normals. They were middle class and working class citizens. The rich, the old money families, the Capulets and Montagues, well they were the ones who truly ruled Verona. The Feud had been around for centuries upon centuries, built off bad words from evil tongues and the deaths of a few family members. Still, it continued, through the death and the destruction and the utter ridiculousness of it all.  


Tybalt scowled whenever people said ‘fair Verona’. How this small, puerile town could ever be viewed as fair was beyond him. He was the sun, he was beautiful, he was so scorching that no one could look at him for too long.  


But he wasn’t that anymore. He’s was the sun’s essence. He was browned skin and fiery eyes and a soft golden glow that he hadn’t seen for years.  


It was happening now.  


He could only wonder why. Why, after so long, the glow would return and only in one class, when he got near enough to one boy.  


Well, maybe he wasn’t a boy. But he wasn’t anything else either. He was just him. Mercutio. The kid with dark skin who sat all the way at the other side of the room, who always wore sweatshirts because he was always cold. He was tall, muscular, probably a healthy weight. He shouldn’t have been cold.  


He had these piercing blue-white eyes and a twisted humor about him that made Tybalt’s whole entity swirl and rage inside of his small, human body.  


He loved it. It made fire light on his fingertips and flicker in his eyes. When his dad punched him, he thought of Mercutio and he’d smile, teeth and lips stained with blood but God, how that didn’t matter. Because Mercutio would be his savior. His light in the dark if there ever were one.  


Oh, how he longed for Mercutio! It made his body ache for the need to be touched by him and it didn’t scare him. Tybalt wasn’t frightened by this need, even though he knew he should have been.  


The legend stated that the night the sun fell, so did the moon.  


Maybe this Mercutio was that moon. And if he was, then he was Tybalt’s only match. They’d burn down the world with a love so violent as theirs.  


All Tybalt knew was he needed this Mercutio. And it was likely this Mercutio needed him too.


End file.
